According to sources close to him, Aspiring Weed Vlogger Jason Fullbright gazed, impotently at his blank Youtube page early this morning, desperately combing his mental rolodex for an interest in literally any hobby other than smoking weed.

Fullbright, known better on r/trees and the Youtube comments section as xXHyGuy69Xx, looked mournfully at his Youtube page—for which he had had a custom banner created—and audibly croaked at his lack of even a single upload.

“People get so many follows just smoking weed and doing something else. Just gotta find my niche.” Fullbright said aloud to himself. Or maybe he just thought it and forgot it again. GodDAMN, he is high.

Following six hours staring into the middle distance Jason said, “Just gotta find my niche. I used to play video games, but I don’t really have time anymore.” He then continued to stare for six more.

Here at Nonsense Humor Magazine, we know that ganja groupies can be found everywhere. We all know that one stoner: bleary-eyed, curled up in the corner, asking for some water or maybe a chip. But not just stoners are smoking the gud-gud today. Almost everyone does the thing! Where are these people, exactly? Are they hiding under your pillow? Are they in your Western Philosophy class? Are they your jaded and tenured professors? Are they writing for your own Long Island collegiate humor magazine?

No.

In a groundbreaking study from the chair of joint affairs at Jungian Organization for Intellegence In Natural Technology, a joint discovery was made between the joint chair and the University of Boulder. it has been discovered that at any given point in time, there are always exactly four-hundred and twenty individuals smoking marijuana (also known as cannabis, reefer, or the oregano you found in your dad’s underwear drawer at the tender age of nine). The study, which received an unprecedented number of student volunteer responses, surveyed the habits of cannabis connoisseurs everywhere. Twenty minutes ago? 420 people lighting one up. Thirteen seconds ago? 420 blunt-boyz blowing their bongos. The minute you were fucking born? 420 stoney-baloney-homies doing the dirty deed, one of which was your father in the car outside the hospital. “We are aware,” one of the weed scientists said, “That Marijuana has become a multibillion dollar industry. But there are always 420 people smoking. No less, and no more. That is why it is the number for weed.”

April 20th is celebrated by many, taken as a day of excess, intoxication and a bullish commitment to tired social media memery. And not just by Nazi’s (it is Hitler’s Birthday, but don’t worry, we did not even THINK of baking him a cake. We spit on Hitler. Petoowee!). Unbeknownst to many, 4/20 is also the day that a clandestine group of “weedheads” come out of the woodwork to smoke too much weed—the one day they do the thing they do everyday, and feel good about it. We here at Nonsense Humor, find this offensive, and antithetical to the spiritual and socio-religious importance the consumption of cannabis holds for so many. So we interviewed a monk. Hofstra’s only monk. Typically reclusive, we had only briefly corresponded with him online, and set a date (4/20) and a time (4:20) to meet him. We were not told he would be setting himself on fire when we got there.

As we approach the 18 year-old caucasian male and also self-proclaimed Buddhist monk he enlightens us on the importance of self-immolation especially on a momentous occasion such as the celebration of weed inhalation. He had this to say on the matter, “WELL YOU SEE, I’M A PRACTICING BUDDHIST, WHICH MEANS THAT I’M A MONK. YOU HAD YOUR BURNING MONK DURING THE VIETNAM WAR AND I THINK THAT’S WHAT ALL OF US MONKS WANT TO ACHIEVE. A FRIEND OF MINE NOTED THE DATE AND HE TOLD ME TO BLAZE IT SO I DID SOME DEEP INTROSPECTION AND HERE I AM!”

Keeping in mind that his perpetual shouting was not due to pain, rather, an attempt to literally have his voice heard over the violent roaring of flames that consumed his entire body, we pressed him further, and more loudly. On the topic of his beliefs, John Jacob Weedman (that’s not his real name) had only this to say, “THERE SEEMS TO BE A LOT OF PUSH-BACK WHEN IT COMES TO WEED SMOKING BUT I THINK WE HAVE TO WAKE THE SHEEPLE OF AMERICA UP TO REALIZE THE TRUE BENEFITS OF MARIJUANA. DID YOU KNOW THIS SHIT ACTUALLY GIVES YOU BRAIN CELLS? EVERY GENIUS IN HUMAN HISTORY SMOKED WEED. MICHAEL PHELPS SMOKES WEED. YOU THINK GALILEO SAW STARS AND SHIT SOBER? FUCK THAT, BRO, IT TAKES A LITTLE GANJ TO GET TO THAT LEVEL OF ENLIGHTENMENT. NEWTON PROBABLY SMOKED…OUR OWN PRESIDENTS SMOKED WEED TOO, I MEAN “FOUR SCORE” COME ON BRO THAT MEANS 420!”

At this point we didn’t have much else to say so he asked us if we wanted to see “SOMETHING COOL” which involved smoking a joint from one of the newly melted holes in his face. We’re forced to objectively report that it wasn’t even a little bit cool. The boy then tried to educate us on the topic of the diverse biology of weed. “DID YOU KNOW THAT THERE’S MORE THAN ONE KIND OF WEED?” asked J.J. Weedman. “PEOPLE DON’T REALLY REALIZE IT BUT THERE’S ALL KINDS OUT THERE I MEAN YOU GOT YOUR ACHILLEA MILLEFOLIUM, BELLIS PERENNIS, CIRSIUM ARVENSE, PLANTAGO MAJOR, AND MY PERSONAL FAVORITE, TARAXACUM OFFICINALE.”

Weedman also possessed small, metal crates full of herbs and covered in Sublime decals. When asked what their contents were, he told us, “OH THAT’S JUST MY PERSONAL COLLECTION. I GOT MY HANDS ON A FINE LITTLE NUMBER CALLED TOXICODENDRON RADICANS!”

Despite many warnings on our part to prevent him from smoking what is literally just poison ivy, he said, “COME ON, BRO! IT’S GOT ‘RAD’ IN THE NAME! YOU KNOW I GOTTA SMOKE THAT SHIT.”

We understood how impressive it was, either way, that he was sacrificing himself for his beliefs, whether it be by self-immolation or suffocation by the inhalation of burnt poison ivy smoke. To be completely honest, there’s a lot of different ways a person can die in a situation as unique as this one. That being said, our monk friend said, and we quote, “HAHAH WHAT DO YOU MEAN, BRO? MONKS CAN’T DIE!” There was a pause before he continued. “WE LIKE RESURRECT AND SHIT, MAN! IT’S FUCKING DOPE!”

We can neither confirm nor deny the validity of this statement and made this known to him. There wasn’t a lot of time for him to fully be concerned with the possibility that there is not, in fact, life after death so he instead chose to accept his demise with a heartfelt message, mostly involving his excitement to experience Nirvana.

Well there you have it. We are legally obligated to report whether or not this small man actually died. He did. He definitely fucking died. You don’t light yourself on fire before smoking poison ivy and survive.

Anyway, happy weed number day, you filthy pringles. Only eight more days until Arbor Day!

You’ve been hit by the analog bulletin train! Pass this onto 15 people who need to take a good, hard look at their disastrous, unbalanced life.

When everything in your entire whole life has gone to fuck and back, take a remember at this good speech from an extremely wise woman. Because she was wise, she was a professor. And because she was a professor, she gave a speech, to her class.

“Why don’t you all look at this mason jar that I have.” The class looked, because they were a good class.

“Here i am, gonna fill it up with sand.” The professor then poured enough sand into the jar to fill it halfway.

“This represents the ‘earth,’ your main priorities in life. Because without some ground beneath our feet, where would we have a leg to stand on, or a stand for our legs?” quoth the professor. The class nodded quietly in rapt approval.

“Now, class, would you say that the jar is full?”

“No, I’d say it’s about halfway full.” a student spake. “You might want to think about pacing yourself, as far as the sand is concerned, or maybe, add the larger elements in first, and the smaller particulates later, so that there’s enough room.

“You are expelled. Never question the unquestionable authority of the tenured professor.” The student was astonished at her doctrine.

What the professor did next was even more astonishing.

“Next, I’m put some pebbles on top of the sand. Next most important in life, are the little rocks that give our lives texture. Salt is a rock, and they say the “salt of the earth” is what makes life so interesting!” The professor then reached deep, deep, deep into her most deepest pockets, scooping out two heaping handfuls of gravel and coarse salt. Pouring the rocks into the jar, the earthy contents almost reached the top.

“Other important rocks are diamonds, which signify both everlasting love and child labor; the duality of man.” The professor then reached deep, deep, deep into an even deeper pocket inside of the first one. Producing a handful of diamonds, she poured those over top of the gravel, spilling out of the top of the jar like a silty parfait.

“Now, class, would you say that the jar is full?”

A few scattered students said “Yes. The jar is overflowing with precious minerals. The Swarovskian nonpareils shimmer in the fluorescent light, guiding us. We are content, and cannot, at this time, imagine an addition to this glass metaphor of our human life that would provide us with more satisfaction,” in unison; in monotone.

“Your manner of thinking is maddeningly limited. You are all incorrect. Expand your minds, and let’s get our full life.” The professor then reached into a student’s ear and produced 3 golf balls.

“Now, the golf balls, represent sports, leisure, and self-care. These are the least important things to have in your life; golf is for losers, leisure is for those without anxiety, and self-care is a fad diet invented to sell ad space on tumblr dot com.” The professor then attempted to balance the 3 golf balls on top of the glittering sediment jar, but the opening was too small for all 3 golf balls to rest comfortably against each other in a triangular configuration.

One of the golf balls fell on the ground.

Just when the class thought she was done, the professor did the most surprising thing of all!

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out 3 beers. After the raucous laughter subsided, one intrepid learner’s hand stood at attention.

“I get it, Professor! The true lesson, is that at the end of the day, you always have time left to kick back and enjoy a few beers with friends.”

Chuckling, the professor responded with a sage thesis.

“If you convince public safety that alcohol is an essential part of an extended metaphor for prioritizing your life, you can bring it onto campus.”

For Immediate release from the office of the Press Secretary, Sean Spicer. The following press briefing concerns the steps taken to create the Trump™ Wall, as well as the duties of the Press Corp and their expected treatment of the office of the Press Secretary. This press briefing is due for immediate release to all media organizations with a rating of “Not Shitty” and higher.

​​​​James S. Brady Briefing Room

3:05 P.M. EDT

Mr. Spicer: Sorry for the delay guys, it’s pizza day. I was supposed to kick this off with my pal Kellyanne. She’s really busy and is doing important business things, key business events and duties. So my goal is we bang out your stupid questions first today and then I’ll drop a vital piece of information as Kellyanne walks in right on cue, and then she’ll talk to you as your editors struggle to put together a half decent non-sensationalized story. So hopefully this all works out.

Before I take questions, I’m gonna shake things up – I’m gonna call on my New York Times buddies. Saw what you guys said the other day, alright. Not even gonna bite. I do so know who Hitler is. He’s my favorite golfer. If that’s controversial, then I don’t want to be PC. Sure, he’s not perfect, but who hasn’t had dealt with a little marital strife? We can’t all be Pence. So he cheated on his wife, at least he played an honest game! Great numbers, that Hitler. I remember when he won the masters, god I love the masters, golf is the only American sport. Don’t even understand why this was a story…making this a race thing when my favorite golfer is half-black.

Whatever.

Go ahead.

Ask the question.

Now.

NYT: That’s literally not anywhere close to who Hitler is?

Mr. Spicer: Okay.

NYT: …Actually, this is a great segue into our question is: what the fuck is wrong with you?

Mr. Spicer: I’m sorry? Do you not like golf?

NYT: Seriously, “At least Pol Pot just killed nerds with glasses?” What the fuck is wrong with you dude?

Mr. Spicer: H’okay then. It’s like that. Alright. Listen guy, I just work here, okay? There’s this assumption going around that I enjoy being around you people. You, in your weird ivory high road tower — you hacks at the Times are almost as bad as “Democracy Dies in the Darkness” over there. Yeah that’s right Washington Post, I know you snuck into this briefing. Maybe next time try to be a little less conspicuous and just leave the merch table in the van, hmm?

WaPo: Point taken…

Mr. Spicer: You all can’t just throw questions at me and expect that I’ll answer them, that’s a very New York way of looking at a problem.

NYT: But that literally makes n—

Mr. Spicer: I understand what you’re trying to say but I literally do not care. I just work here day in and day out while you take Buzzfeed quizzes on your phone, that’s right I fucking know about your phone CNN Mike. Do you think I have read a history book in my goddamn life? Do you think I understand the socio-economic crisis plaguing the global economy? No, I fucking don’t. President Trump has been in office for over 60 days now, and you think I enjoy any of this? I mean, I do because I used to work at a Dennys and its just nice to come home sometimes and not smell like syrup. Have you ever worked at a Dennys? Have you ever woken up every morning, rode your bike six miles, and then spent eight hours serving eggs in all-too-bright single-parent purgatory? I mean, my coworkers were actually pretty great but all that is beside the point. I hate literally all of you, I hate that you don’t care about my opinion in music. What I don’t hate is the American taxpayer, unlike you MSNBC Karen. Whatever. Press Conference over.

NYT: What?

Mr. Spicer: Thanks guys, I look forward to seeing everyone except the organizations I have now deemed “Kind of Shitty”. Take care.

I write to you today on behalf of my grandson, Ross Gesth. I write to you today, in this very public, real, and good newspaper, to deliver to you the news that you are finished. Ruined. My home doesn’t get internet, so I write to you now, you technological Pol Pot, from the local public library. I come here twice a week to keep up with the other world, that one Online, and I’ve gleaned from Facebook and WordPress and Ticker and Zomit that you have made an enemy of youths around this nation. Big mistake, Uber. Big mistake…you neo-Nazi.

My grandson writes of you often, Uber. He makes “statuses” online about the way you lure vulnerable youngsters into serving a rigid totalitarian state, and on www.RossGoesOff.wordpress.com he even outlines a plan to sabotage you with pranks, hijinks, and more serious ideas as well. You want to use an army of cyber-youths to take down the media in order to further serve the oppressive regime you’ve help put in place? So be it. My daughter’s son Ross will erase your website from his phone, and then he will become a full-time taxi driver. My handsome and righteous grandson will combat you in the very streets you terrorize.

I offer to you, through this good publication, an offer: Leave the young people of this country alone, cease your nationalistic rhetoric and your Constitutional injustices and, if you truly want to allay the gripes that Ross has alluded to on various online playgrounds and real-world playgrounds as well, stop employing drivers who take it upon themselves to decide what music is played. That’s indoctrination, and if it does not end I will be forced to take matters into my own grandson Ross’s hands.

Also, “surge pricing.” I’m not sure what that is, but Ross says on Twitter.com that it is “wack,” “so fucked,” and even notes them as an example of “some serious Nazi-level shit. Big, big bullshit.” Your fascist coup of LaGuardia airport hasn’t escaped us Uber. The eyes of the world are watching. Sickening.

To Ross you are a new enemy. Your betrayal – your empty promises of a fairer, better world, where no middle-aged man is denied the opportunity to make a little extra cash on the side – stung him hard, like the first round thwap of a switch from a time when parents had God’s blessing to do what was necessary. I remember that time. And I remember you, Uber. You’re nothing new to me. No. We knew you by many names: Stalin. Mussolini. Mao Zedong. We should have seen you coming, but how could we? You slithered in like all the others, cloaked in technology, innovation, and “progressivism.” You rose up on the back of the little guy, but you didn’t even realize that that little guy was my grandson Ross, who is 6’4”.

This new upcoming season of Quidditch is gonna be a banger. Since their last game, they’ve just been going at it in the soccer fields. You know the type: the coolest kids in your Comp 2 class, always talking about how sore they are from practice. You’ve probably even seen their lanyards. Surprised that it’s Harry Potter? Why wouldn’t you be? I know people always talk about how Quidditch isn’t a real sport but I heard Greg in my class dispute this rumor. Greg and Dylan, the coveted seeker, were talking about how much work they’re missing out on because they have practice every night when this girl was like, “That’s not a real sport.” Being the Ravenclaw Greg is, he destroyed her using intellect and fact. She was totally dumbfounded. One day, I hope I get to be like Greg because he reminds me so much of Hermione, but I’m just a Hufflepuff who watches from the sidelines.

Watching them practice next to the soccer team, you can see just how dedicated they are to their sport. Sweating through their house sweatshirts, running around with that weird stick between their legs while trying to throw those balls into the hoops at the end of the field. There’s no other athlete who can do that kind of multitasking. In boring sports, they just do one thing with only one ball. In Quidditch, there’s gotta be at least three. Dylan has been perfecting the seeker position by doing extra practices and he’s finally starting to look like a great player. Not only is he a crazy good athlete, he’s crazy good-looking. Standing at a whopping 5’6” with shaggy brown hair that covers most of his face, he is so dreamy. His aroma is tantalizing, his AXE body spray makes everyone go wild—even the straight boys on the team. I mean, I would love to date him but there’s no way he would even look at me like that. I’m just a groupie—nowhere near his level or even his league.

Their first game since the terrifyingly upsetting loss against NYU is happening this weekend. NYU’s team was ripped; almost all of them were like close to six foot. They had exclusive merch that you can only get at Harry Potter World, so you know they’re good. Although that’s not really my type. I don’t go for the conventionally attractive type, you know? They’re not down to Earth like Dylan is. The NYU’s Hipster Horcruxes really did rip us a new one that day. So our team is hoping people come to show support—while they may not have three people in the crowd yet, like the basketball team has, hopefully some day they will. The game should be in the bag for them since they’re playing against Adelphi, the worst Quidditch team in the tri-state area. Adelphi’s team is like the opposite of the Hipster Horcruxes. So if you really want to show your school pride, don’t go to any of the games with free shirts.At this game, you’ll thrive on the atmosphere of excitement and all the Harry Potter references that they throw around. You’ll also be able to see all the hot members, but stay away from Dylan. Remember to head on out to the acid fields at 12:30 pm on Sunday! You won’t wanna miss it or the team!

Responding to reports that Garden City just generally felt more pleasant to be around, authorities this Wednesday discovered that Adelphi University is officially gone. What used to be the mediocre campus is just nothing. We don’t know what is there, or if there even exists anymore. Whatever caused this, officials are still unsure, but also they don’t really care enough to put any more money into finding out.

The entire student body of 7,500 students have also seemingly vanished, but their parents haven’t filed any missing persons reports, obviously, since no parent can truly love their child if they sent them to Adelphi.

Hofstra University emailed the student body, confirming that their gross smelly neighbor school ceases to be, but the email didn’t seem to be solemn, and with Stuart Rabinowitz actually typing “see ya the fuck later fats!” The area around where Adelphi was has become a huge party scene for the Hofstra youth, while many white students at Hofstra have started doing séances in the space the “school” used to occupy, just to tell the Adelphi students that it still sucks in the afterlife.

Surprisingly, the shuttle to Adelphi stills seems to be running. Adelphi’s one positive quality was that they had the only shuttle that knew when the trains came in and arrived accordingly, a skill that Hofstra never seemed to achieve. The vanishing of the entire university apparently wasn’t enough for the school to give up their one good thing–the ability to leave there entirely, quickly and on time–so the shuttles continue. However, no one is ever driving, and nobody truly knows where the shuttle ends up. Scientists theorized during their break from more pressing, relevant matters, that the shuttles appear and disappear through a small black hole, or something, maybe. Similar to what Adelphi previously was.

“Luge? My wife told me to pick some up at CVS. She said it was like humping a dry carrot. A meaty, dry carrot, with those white flaky patches?” admitted stranger Todd Owen.

It seems that this sport has long been left undefined for the general populous, requiring us to fill in the details of a sport lain dormant in the dragon’s nest.

According to the National Olympic Newspaper for Sociological and Ecological Nutrition in Southern Europe (NONSENSE), luge can be defined as any sport that uses sleds and grease. The first ever recorded game of luge was played in 1483 at the dawn of English time when Richard the Third lubricated the track with the blood of his enemies. The luge-sled, known in French as the Grosse bite (translation: large cock), was a large and oily piece of wood. This game was organized to celebrate the inauguration of Pope John Paul IV, who won the electoral college by a landslide vote.

Today, luge is one of the most popular Winter Olympic Games. Players from all around Greenland and Canada’s Northwestern Provinces unite under a single steamy dome to participate in what has internationally become known as “The Lord’s Tournament,” gliding players into the hearts of man for 30 slippery seconds at a time while they evade death by mere millimeters.

The track is the most important element in the event of luge. In Italy, the luge tracks are greased with freshly-pressed oil of the olive plant. In Thailand, coconut oil is used. In the United States, they prefer raw unrefined pig fat, also known as “hitting that shit raw.” Some Olympic qualification tournaments have been known to use KY Intense Pussy Burn Jelly for Her, as well as actual strawberry jelly; the two products are largely interchangeable. As for the sled, most Olympians choose to use discarded Macbook Pros; here at Hofstra University, our team uses trays stolen from brittle old men visiting the Student Center who can’t carry their own food. Their tears lubricate our newly-erected Joseph J. Shapiro Family Steam Dome.

This game is known as the second most dangerous sport in the Olympics, preceded only by Spicy Fencing (Supreme Edition). Mothers have wept sweet rose-scented tears at the edges of thousands of luge-tracks. And with good reason! Partakers of luge are a rare breed indeed; even the losers of such an arduous and life-changing sport must themselves be built by champions, forged in the flame, and cold as ice. To learn more, we asked internationally known lugerino Anita Nuthername to tell us a little about this fateful game of death and how one finds “success” at it.

“Yeah, it’s really all in the buttcheeks,” said Nuthername, clenching hers tightly so that a squeaking noise could be heard through the entire luge practice complex, in turn inspiring her teammates to do more luge. “You just gotta squeeze ‘em real tight. That’s how Richard the Third would have wanted it.”

When asked how long Nuthername had been practicing the luge lifestyle, she answered, “Since the day I was fucking born. When my mother, God rest her tender soul, squeezed her very own luge-ly buttcheeks and birthed me out, I was set forth onto my sled and into the track. The afterbirth followed suit.” Following this exchange, Nuthername paused briefly. “I miss my cheeky Mama,” she whispered to me, her glutes still squealing. Tears began to well in her eyes and, for the first time that day, it seemed as though she had more on her mind than just indentured swervitude. “But I just wish she would have explained to me what the fuck luge is.”

With every year comes new releases from the hottest artists, and perhaps ancient diseases frozen for millions of years under the humongous island of Greenland. Last year, Drake brought us Views, Beyoncé gave us Lemonade, Chance, the Rapper gave us Coloring Book, and Greenland gave us no cataclysmic diseases. Let’s dive right into the hottest albums that will be dropped this year!

1. Lorde – Melodrama – Jun 16, 2017

Since the young New Zealand pop-star’s 2013 debut album, Pure Heroine, people have been blasting her catchy tunes at ironic tea parties and white college clubs. The album even garnered a cover from T-Pain’s hype-man while T-Pain got paid $30,000 to sit and drink bottled water at Hofstra’s very own Music Fest. Lorde has been showing some serious potential for this new album with the release of some new singles, even if they are not as catchy as “Royals.” Global warming is also showing some serious potential in melting Greenland just enough that those world-ending diseases frozen in there may escape. Let’s hope we all die after we jam out to Lorde!

2. Spoon – Hot Thoughts – March 17, 2017

Everyone knows that one Spoon song, “Underdog,” so everyone definitely wants another full album of music from them in 2017! The band may be older, but that does not mean they cannot keep up with the young Alternative bands of today. Also on the older side (by several hundreds of thousands of years) are those diseases under the largely Inuit populated island of Greenland that are definitely going to thaw.

3. Gorillaz – TBD

This cartoon-turned-real person band has been MIA since 2012; nobody thought they were coming back, but here they are! Expect even more Snoop Dogg and more features than ever before. There is sure to be no lack of their wacky music videos either. There is also no doubt in my mind that the frozen diseases under Greenland, once thawed, are capable of wiping out 99% of the population within one year. Being frozen for so long has given them a high resistance to antibiotics and the ability to transform fast. Be sure to groove to some Gorillaz as you slowly watch your family cough blood on each other!

4. Fleet Foxes – Crack Up – June 16, 2017

We just had to include another animal-based band in this list; they just seem so plentiful these days! Fleet Foxes left their fans in the dust after their 2011 album Helplessness Blues. People thought they all died, but here they are again. They’re also gonna bring the original Seattle Folk style that fans have worshipped since their hiatus. After this album, they all will almost definitely die terribly painful deaths from those diseases under the (ironically-named) Greenland. Be sure to listen to Crack Up as you contemplate all those diseases thawing and inevitably killing you.

5. Sky Ferreira – Masochism – TBD

This might be the year of the Indie-Pop Revolution! Sky Ferreira is a fierce and edgy pop musician who always does her own thing. Her album should once again bring her angsty and edgy vibes that her fans just adore. Her porcelain-white skin will make it very difficult for doctors to notice when she has been infected by the diseases that are going to take her life sometime soon. However, it will be easy to tell when she starts coughing up the blood we are all bound to cough up eventually.

6. Trey Songz – Tremaine – TBD

Trey Songz comes out of the blue right when the world needs him. No one’s ever said “I hate Trey Songz” because everyone just sorta likes him. Maybe 2017 will be his comeback year, or maybe it will just be the year he coughs and/or cries tears, killing himself and spreading the frozen (soon to be unfrozen) Greenland diseases to others.

7. Some Country Music – Who Cares

These songs will come out in the summer, and I would not even give us until then to live. The diseases pent up in their frozen prison made-up of the largest non-continent island, Greenland, are itching to get their dirty hands on some animals, then humans. We will die before we hear the hottest country song of the year and there is no way around that.

2017 is sure to be a year full of new music, new experiences, and new diseases! These hot albums are sure to blow up the airways and the charts in the coming months, so be sure to start pre-ordering your copies. Also, be sure to watch out for those diseases! You may not be able to stop the apocalypse caused by them, but maybe you will be one of the 1% who is immune. Happy listening!